Ephemeral Fairytales
by fluffy pantoufle
Summary: A collection of stories - 500 words or less - with no particular reason or rhyme; these dribble-drabbles are just the product of a cornucopia of inspiration! All FF8, all pairings, situations... You name it. Read, enjoy, review - the usual.
1. Between the Bars

**_Ephemeral Fairytales _**

by: fluffy pantoufle

A/N: In the same way as I'm sure you do, I draw inspiration for my stories from a variety of places. I'm a huge music whore, but even something as insignificant as a single word may spark an entire story, if stumbled upon in the right moment. These are just a series of _Final Fantasy VIII _related drabbles and short stories - 500 words or less, for the most part. Sometimes it's even more challenging to write something super-short and forcing yourself to stay within a specific word-count (again, I'm sure this is something everyone is aware of xD)!

No particular pairings, no particular theme... Just little tales. Enjoy them for what they are, please! And if you have any suggestions as to what little story you'd like me to write or try, by all means PM me.

Don't forget to review!

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_Inspiration: "Between the Bars," by Elliott Smith_

She needed a night for herself.

I could see it in her face. Normally, Trepe glared at me with a fire that threatened to melt those pretty blue eyes of hers. If looks could kill, I'd have been dead long before we even left the orphanage.

Today, though…she seemed _so _tired, like if someone called her "Instructor Trepe" one more time she would have collapsed. Even when I tried to poke fun at her she stayed pale and indifferent, which is Hyne-damned unheard of. How could I ever forget the way she gets all flushed and bothered when I push her buttons?

There's a lot of shit in the world I can take - people shielding their kids from me in the street, or not being allowed back into Garden - but Quistis wandering around like a zombie?

Not while I live and breathe.

She needed a night for herself, and it didn't matter that it was spent in the company of the Lapdog - filthy murderer, traitor to mankind. At least I knew where to find the stiffest cocktails in town.

And as I watched Quistis whoop and laugh her way down the street, drunk on whiskey and liberation and whatever the fuck else the bartender slid our way - I grew angry. When did it become okay for the world to twist and corrode one of their own heroes until she forgot who she was? Everyone on the planet hated me, but at least I was free.

Don't worry, Quisty - be free tonight. Be free always. And if anyone tries to bring you down, I'll keep them still. I promise.


	2. A First Date

_Inspiration: A first date…_

So, I'm standing in the hallway outside of her door an' if you listen, I'll bet any amount of gil that you can hear my teeth chatterin' from Winhill. It's not cold or anything…I'm just scared as all hell.

Wait! Let me say that again. Zell Dincht is afraid of _nothing, _ya hear me?He's just, uh - a little nervous. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Barely nervous at all…cool as a Trabian cucumber. Yep. That's me, baby!

See, I ain't got a thing to be scared about - I prepared for this date really well! Ma would be so proud! Irvine gave me a few pointers…only the suave, gentlemanly things, of course. I sure as hell don't want to come off as some oversexed jerk!

After we went over all the basics, like holding the door and pulling out her chair, Irvine decided that it'd do me some good to watch a movie called _Axe Murderer Weekend. _

"The hell is this for?"

Irvine just laughed. Cocky cowboy bastard. "This is what's going to happen to you tonight if you don't do everything I just told ya to do!"

I mean, I've heard stories, but I never thought that she was _that _mean. Tch, I bet she couldn't even run from here to the cafeteria with an axe like that!

…ah!

The door is opening, and I kinda forgot how to breathe. All I can think of is that axe and the screaming tourists - but hold on a sec. When did _Xu _become the prettiest girl in Balamb Garden?

"Buckle up, Dincht. You've never been on a date like this before."

Oh, man… I feel like I should've kissed my Ma goodbye.


	3. Sugar

_Inspiration: Sugar!_

It was a kaleidoscope of saccharine, a treasure trove of treats that would make any child practically wet his or her respective pants in euphoria. Swirled lollipops fit for a Guardian Force stuck jauntily from a cup with pens and highlighters. A jar of chocolate candies, one for every color ever admired by the eye of man, sat on her night stand - ironically next to a textbook on explosives. Gummies and lemon drops and Hyne knows _what _else littered the floor, almost in a haphazard path; Hansel and Gretel would have been ticked off had they known a trail could be made with a substance other than bread. Atop the canary yellow bedspread sat a bag of licorice that had been torn right in half.

…and these were only some of the edible delights that met Squall's field of vision when he poked his head through the door, looking for a pilot. The sticky sweet smell crinkled his nose and damn near rotted his teeth - what the hell else could she be hiding in her drawers? Or under the bed? Or -

"Hi, Squall!" Selphie's voice was as airy as cotton candy as she made her presence known from the floor on the other side of the bed. "I was just looking for my last can of Booyaka - what's shakin'?"

"Booyaka?"

She rolled her eyes, as if this was common knowledge. "The energy drink? I bought a six-pack in Timber this morning and I can't remember where the last one went…"

This morning? As in, earlier _today? _Squall's eyes widened as he watched Selphie toss everything from a chicobo plush to what appeared to be a detonator of some sort across her room. "Perhaps this isn't the best time, Selph," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he tiptoed away from the door.

"Aw, but Squall! I'll share the can with you when I find it!"

Too late. The commander was already halfway down the hall, but at least he now knew what fueled his perky companion through a Sorceress War, Garden Festival, and several classes a day.

…but what did a trip to the dentist cost?


	4. Romance Novels & Jealousy

A/N: Warmest salutations, all! These next two pieces are dedicated to sissyHIYAH. :] Not only are all of her stories excellent reads and highly hilarious, but her reviews of my own work are always awesome. I recommend that you check out her stuff!  
Also, I do apologize for being completely MIA as of late (if anyone has noticed, hahaha). I'm actually doing writing that I'm getting PAID for now! Who knew? The consequence of such work, however, is that fanfiction does tend to get put on the back burner more often than not. Sad times. However, please read and review! I do so _love _checking in and seeing feedback - makes my heart all warm and fuzzy. Woo!

* * *

_Inspiration: Romance Novels_

Fury Caraway once dated a woman who read nothing but smut novels. At first, he found her hobby to be quite funny - while he perused newspapers and stacks of reports pertaining to Galbadia's welfare, she lost herself in tales of bated breath and quivering loins. It wasn't until she left the general for a muscle-bound cabana boy with an exotic accent that Fury ceased to laugh at her once endearing quirk.

Opposites attract, but they seldom stick it out over the long haul.

The night he met Quistis Trepe at the SeeD ball, however, his brain went completely limp. All he managed to conjure up in his imagination were phrases and scenes worthy of the next tawdry bestseller - Hyne, if only he'd been sitting in front of a typewriter! Had he been born a wordsmith instead of a military man, picturing Quistis in a corset torn to shreds in a lust-driven frenzy wouldn't have been so…

"Good evening, General Caraway! I don't believe we've been formally introduced."

…out of character.

He needed another glass of merlot, post-haste. Visions of himself and the fetching blonde soaring through the cosmos on a cloud propelled by erotic euphoria would pester him for the remainder of the evening. Even so, at that moment he would've gladly surrendered half of Galbadia for a youthful physique and long locks.

Of course, Fury would never have admitted to reading the novels. He only peeked at the covers to see what the fuss was about.

* * *

_Inspiration: Jealousy_

Sometimes, Rinoa hated Quistis with such vehemence that the very emotion threatened to burn a hole in the pit of her stomach.

Did she still consider the instructor her best friend? Well…_maybe. _But why did Quistis have to walk with such an elegant flounce? Why'd she insist upon raising her eyebrows and widening her facial expressions when speaking to someone? Rinoa always suspected she was only feigning interest. Secretly, the sorceress loathed when Quistis gave her the "do go on" face while crossing her arms; it seemed so bloody patronizing.

At the end of the day, it mattered not that the raven-haired girl was more adept magically - she still crashed into chairs that hadn't been pushed in and stumbled over the words _Firaga_ and _Esthar_. Quistis knew histories and cultures and could play Triple Triad. She could smile with her eyes and speak volumes without uttering a syllable.

It was the difference between a clumsy witch-girl and a statuesque, intelligent woman. Rinoa envied such effortless grace, wondering why she could do nothing to emulate it.

What annoyed her the most, though, was that Quistis was Commander Leonhart's walking notepad. His one-woman intelligentsia. Rinoa could warm his bed from now until the next Sorceress War, knowing that Squall only spoke to her in fragments, filling in the holes with mindless prattle that he thought would entertain her.

Oh, she was jealous of Quistis - but most of all, Rinoa was angry at herself for all she could not change.


	5. The Book of Love

A/N: My inspiration for this next piece is a song called "The Book of Love" - particularly the version by Peter Gabriel, but there's a rendition by Nataly Dawn on YouTube that I rather like as well. ^^ I'm not used to writing Irvine's character so this was a particular challenge, not to mention the longest one yet at 441 words! I hope I did him justice, and I thought the song was a perfect fit; the lyrics are a touch cynical, but at its heart there's genuine emotion and love. I just think it's awesome.

* * *

I don't recall much of my dad before the orphanage, nor'd I ever claim to. The one memory that _has _stuck with me through my life, though, was watchin' my old man cry with a picture of my mom in his hands. The memory's pretty hazy, as you'd probably expect it to be, what with Guardian Forces an' all…but I know for a fact that he thought he was alone in the room. He never knew that I saw, either. I think I was stunned into silence.

…my dad wasn't an emotional guy. Sometimes, I reckoned that his heart was nothin' more than a ball of Cactuar needles held together with a couple pieces of tape. Didn't mean I didn't love 'im, and it didn't mean that he didn't love my mom. He just chose not to bother with that ol' book of love that everyone else seems to think exists. It's still on the shelf somewhere, collectin' dust.

Why'd I even bother to bring this up, you ask? One reason may have to do with this here bottle of Galbadian whiskey that Zell was so kind to give me for my birthday.

Another reason – an' I suspect the more important of the two – is that Selphie is madder than a Moomba with a thorn in its paw. How the hell was I supposed to know that she was throwing a surprise party for me? Ain't that a hoot? I ruined the surprise without knowing there ever _was _one to begin with. Clearly Nida didn't know either, 'cause his offer to go out for a few celebratory drinks seemed pretty damn genuine.

Hyne, I hate when Selphie's mad at me. I've always tried to do good by the girl, y'know? Maybe it's just that some things are genetic, like my ability to screw up everything that's sentimental. I can barely remember it…but my mom used to try to break my dad free of whatever kept 'im so holed up in his thoughts.

Wasn't until I saw him bawling that I realized my mom meant anything to anyone other than me.

Maybe Selphie's read more of that book of love than any of us. Maybe there's a chapter in there that talks about history repeatin' itself. If there is, I sure as hell don't want to be another example of that being true.

I just love the fact that she _loves.  
_  
Yeah, I think I've got it. It's my birthday, but _Seffie's _gonna be the one who gets the gift. I think it's about time I took that book off the shelf an' read the introduction.


End file.
